To freeze that frame When our hearts spoke aloud To etherize a crowd Shan’t it be the same
By and through the seven lands And the four, which make the seas Through the eternal, sterile sky Whispers mimicking an April breeze
I’d steel the rings of Saturn Mt. Olympus from Zeus Horns of Beelzebub would be mine As the wings of Seraphs I’d make thine
The moon I’ll have with butter The sun with toast and tea The rest I’ll swallow whole Just to have your eyes Mesmerized Upon me